


Wedding Shower

by Louzeyre



Category: Veronica Mars (Movie 2014), Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-13 16:16:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21000557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Louzeyre/pseuds/Louzeyre
Summary: Veronica and Logan decide not to wait for Sedona...





	Wedding Shower

**Author's Note:**

> This is unbetaed --- primarily because I felt slightly embarrassed to have my beta go over it. So I'm sorry for what I suspected are more than a few grammar/ spelling mistakes.
> 
> I'm usually more of a "fade to black" kind of fic writer so any comments or advice would be very helpful.

“I’m going to shower first.” Veronica announced.

Making a split section decision, she reached out, and grabbed Logan’s arm before he had a chance to leave the bathroom.

“Join me?”

She saw him struggle a moment between doing the responsible, adult thing by continuing to get ready for their impromptu trip or joining her.

She gave him a bit of a smirk.

Joining her won out.

He slipped off his jacket with a smirk of his own and tossed it and his phone onto the bed a few feet before closing the bathroom door. Veronica leaned over and turned on the water.

“Mrs. Logan,” Logan said full of mock indignation “Are you suggesting that we consummate our marriage, in the shower? That we make love for the first time as man and wife as a bathroom tryst?”

His display of outrage was somewhat hampered by the fact that he was already unbuttoning his shirt.

Veronica moved towards him and took over the unfastening. “Think of it more as an amuse-bouche for our honeymoon. Just a small taste of what’s to come, to whet your appetite.”

“Hmmm.” He pretended to contemplate the suggestion. “Well, I do like amusing my mouth.” 

“And I like amusing your mouth, too.”

Buttons now finished, Logan slipped the shirt off and in a surprising show of irresponsibility allowed it to drop to the floor.

You think after all this time she would have grown immune to the sight of his impossible well-formed chest and abs.

Nope.

She still wanted to lick every inch of them.

But today they  _ were _ on something of a schedule.

So, she settled for leaning forward and push up onto her toes so that she could give Logan a long, slow kiss.

“I think I may be persuaded to have a taste.” Logan responded after they separated.

She rolled her eyes and toed-off her wedges.

Logan wordlessly offered her his arm for support as she shimmied out of her stockings.

“You know, in French it’s actually amuse-gueule. Some restaurants in the 80’s changed it on their menus because gueule refers to an  _ animal’s _ mouth and is considered  _ vulgar _ ,” He said, drawing out the word “in some expression.”

“So, you  _ did _ pay attention in French class.” She told him. She turned around. Logan pulled at the ribbon encasing her pony-tail, letting her hair to fall loose. 

“Only the vulgar parts.” He whispered into her ear, then moved to pull down the zipper of her dress.

“Careful.” She warned him, adding with a faux-southern accent “I am planning on putting it in my hope chest.”

Logan let out an amused huff, but still complied pulling down the zipper slowly, and pausing when just enough skin was revealed that he could plant a gentle, almost, reverent kiss between her shoulder blades. 

He continued afterwards, with equally deliberate, almost painful slowness.

She retaliated by stepping out of the dress with equally artificial precision and making a show of folding it up before placing it carefully in one of their towel cubbies.

Then she launched herself at him mouth first.

Gone was slow or precise as she pulled at the buttons on his pants. He tried to shake them downwards with uncharacteristic clumsiness so he could pull them off without breaking the kiss.

That didn’t really work.

Finally, he gave up, leaning apart long enough to pull of shoes, pants and underwear in two strong yanks.

Logan took the brief separation to give an appreciative look to the matching bra and panty set she’d picked out specifically for this purpose, before returning to hastily unclasping the former and helping her to slip off the later, tossing both to what she hoped was the opposite side of the room from the toilet. .

With a now familiar spinning motion Logan led her under the flow of the water. True to his quip, he then slides down so he was kneeling in front of her.

Before he could get his taste, however, Veronica guided him back up.

“I want  _ you _ .”

Logan gave her another smirk.

“I live to serve.” He said, before reaching and grabbed her by her thighs and lift her upward.

He held her a moment, allowing her to position herself, before he slowly lowered her onto him.

She locked her ankles behind his back.

He walked them forward slightly so that her back was pressed to the tiles and they could brace themselves against the wall.

They returned to moving slow.

That didn’t last long.

Over the years she and Logan had learned and relearned each other’s bodies….

Veronica wriggled a little to the left.

…. They knew each other’s better than most people knew their own.

Logan shifted slightly, speeding up his pace.

Some people would think that meant that their sex life would become dull or mechanical.

Veronica pulled herself up just a bit. and adjusted her own rhythm.

Maybe with someone else it would have.

Logan spread his hands against the tile wall, giving himself slightly more leverage.

With Logan?

Veronica allowed trailed her hands up and down his arms, tracing the hills and valleys of flexed muscles.

With Logan, knowing each other just meant that whether they were in a feather bed, and loose from champagne and every romantic cliché…

Logan began to suck on her neck, behind her ear.

…or having what amounted to a quickie in the shower…

Veronica leaned back her head back and he moved downward, until his mouth was nestled in the crook of her neck. He gave it playful lick …

…. they always managed to find a position, a pace….

Logan sucked on the small sensitive patch of skin in time with his thrusts.

… that they could find a spot that …

Oh. There.

Oh God. There.

There.

There.

There!

There!

THERE!

She allowed the sensation to flow over her. Then leaned forward, resting her forehead against Logan’s.

She wasn’t sure if it was just because she was unequivocally happy for one of the few times in her life, or if Logan had magically found  _ another _ new favorite position, but she could swear she had actually felt the earth move underneath them.

They held onto each other for another minuting, while they each caught their breaths. Finally, Veronica unhooked her legs and Logan allowed her to slide back down the floor.

The rest of the shower was, in fact, rather perfunctory. She and Logan maneuvered with familiar ease as they soaped up and shifting around each other so they could both be able to rinse off in the small space.

After drying off, Logan moved to exit the small space to change. After he had pulled the door open only a few inches, however, he froze.

“Logan?”

He tensed, and closed the door again, turning back towards her.

She was about to jokingly that she didn’t think they had  _ actually _ shaken the walls so much, they could have knocked something over, but the quip died on her tongue when she saw Logan’s face.

All traces of humor had vanished. 

His face had tightened in the way she knew meant he had gone into “dealing with a disaster” mode. She had had way too many opportunities to learn it over the years already.

“What is it?” She asked.

“It looks like something blew out the bedroom windows.” He told her, as he hurriedly pulled on his pants shoes and his shirt. He moved to open the door again, slowly this time, making sure that his body was between her and the small opening.

Someone else might have told her wait. Logan knew her better than that.

“You’ll need shoes.” He warned her, “There’s broken glass.” Then slipped out into the bedroom.

Veronica eyed her wedges a moment. There weren’t exactly ideal for navigating a glass covered floors but they were all she had in the room. She slipped them back on, then grabbed her robe and wrapped it around her.

She hadn’t really been joking about saving that dress.

There was a crunch as she took her first step into the bedroom.

Even now, after all these years, Veronica sometimes had trouble imaging Logan as… well what he was at work. Doing what he did for work.

It was easier that way, maybe. Thinking of it like a story he told her, or a movie instead of as Logan’s – and her--- reality.

Standing here, in their debris covered bedroom, watching as Logan precisely and systematically searched for what had caused the damaged --- and made sure that there were no other unpleasant surprises hidden in the room, the imagine of Logan the Naval Intelligence Officer was suddenly brought fully to life in front of her.

She felt a shiver run up her spine.

Like someone had just step on her grave.

Or his.

She shook it off.

“I’m going to check the rest of the apartment.” Logan told her. She nodded, focusing instead trying to determine the extent of the damage here, and what might be the cause. 

Looking around the room, Veronica was somewhat relieved to realize that the bedroom, at least, wasn’t so much a disaster zone as disaster adjacent.

There was glass and little bits of debris covering the floor. And the bed. And pretty much ever exposed surface. Veronica suspected they would still be finding bit and pieces of it on the day they finally moved out. But it seemed to have come mostly from the windows above their bed being blown in rather than from something exploding inside the apartment.

Given the position of the windows compared to the damaged, her very rough guess was that the blast had most likely come from the alleyway beside their building.

Where her car was.

“Shit!”

“Veronica!” Logan called, out worriedly. A moment later he ran back into the bedroom on high alert. “What is it? What happened?”

“I’m an idiot.” She told him. Logan looked relieved, and confused. She understood. It wasn’t a phrase she would have expected herself to say either. But there really wasn’t any other way to describe how she felt right now.

Things had begun to slot into place. Penn calling her a hero. The limerick saying a bomb would go off midday around  _ Fiji _ . The backpack.

“That mothercusser planted a bomb in our car.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think! I hope it wasn't too awkward? 
> 
> The Alternative Title for this was "Show Sex Saves Lives (and Logans)". I might write a sequel in which Veronica and Logan actually manage to leave the house just so I can use that as the series name.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [(Cover) Wedding Shower](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21093941) by [CoverMeMellow (MellowBobcat)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellowBobcat/pseuds/CoverMeMellow)


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